Darkdestiny2000: Thank-you! Here, at last, is the chapter where things get going…

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Disclaimer: I own none of this. C.S.Lewis is the genius. ;-)
Chapter Fourteen, a Day with the Beavers

Fortunately, the Beaver didn't appear so offended as to take notice of me.

"Lucy Pevensie?" it said, gesturing behind me. I stepped aside and let Lucy take over.

"Yes?" she said hesitantly.

"Good, I've found you!" the Beaver hopped aside and motioned for us to follow him. "Come further in, come further in! We're not safe out in the open!"

"There is no one here but us," I said, unsure if following a talking animal into a rather—excuse the word—perilous wood.

"The trees can hear us," said the Beaver in an ominous voice. "They could betray us to Her."

"Betray us to What Side?" said Edmund stoutly. "How do we know you're on the right side?"

For once, Edmund had asked something smart before leaping ahead with his eyes shut. Perhaps he had learned some sense.

"Here is my token," the Beaver said, handing Lucy a white hankie.

"Why," Lucy took it in surprise. "That's the hanky I gave to--"

"Tumnus," finished the Beaver sadly. "He gave it to me just before they took him."

"Is he alright?" Lucy said, concern making her appear older beyond her years.

The Beaver looked down, his eyes looking moist. "I don't know."

I placed a hand on Lucy's shoulder. "What are we supposed to do?"

"When Mr. Tumnus got wind of his arrest, before it happened, mind you," explained the Beaver. "He told me to meet you here and to return the Lady's hankie. He told me to keep you safe."

"I…I see," I faltered. So we had friends in this dangerous place. But safe from what?

"Come further in!" the Beaver cried, leaping into the bushes. "We have lingered here too long!"

I took a step after him when Susan grasped my arm. "Wait!" she cried. "What do you think you are doing?"

"Right," said Edmund, eager to please at least one of us. "How do we know we can trust him?"

"He had Lucy's hankie," I said, shrugging. "He said he knew the faun."

"He's a beaver," said Susan exasperatingly. "He shouldn't be saying anything!"

"Further in!" cried the Beaver urgently.

I grabbed Lucy's hand and followed the Beaver resolutely through the overhanging of trees. So what if I was making the biggest mistake of my life? How was I to know what was ahead? The land seemed to cloud my senses. I tried to focus a thought on what Dad might have done…but the thought flitted away before I could quite grasp it. My memories were almost growing blurry. I felt myself growing diminished in my role as a replacement to Dad for my siblings. With each passing moment, with every falling snowflake and crunching snow path, I felt more and more like a brother. Like the normal Peter. It felt so strange, I almost stopped walking altogether. I hadn't felt like an older brother for a long while. Was I failing my responsibilities by doing this? Can an older brother be sufficient enough? I needed Dad so badly. But for an odd reason…I couldn't quite recall his face…and the thought did not panic me. It almost released me.

We were in a totally different world. These were my new responsibilities. The old ones fell away like twilight fading into shadow. My call was different…even if I didn't know what it was. I just had to stay calm and do my best. Surely that's what Dad was asking of me, wasn't it? Could it have really been that simple…?

"Ah, blimey!" cried Beaver, who had led us to the top of a hill that looked upon a frozen lake with a lighted beaver-house sitting atop a dam. "Looks like the ol' girl's got the kettle on!"

"How lovely," said Lucy sincerely, trying to hide her worry for Mr. Tumnus. What a brave girl.

"Merely a trifle, merely a trifle," muttered Beaver bashfully. "And it's not finished, either!"

He led us down a steeply sloped path the side of the lake, then walking in single fall, walked across the top of the dam. The icy wall was on one side, the level green ice on the other. A light flickered inside the Beaver house, and a She-Beaver came trotting out, looking plumb and cheery.

"Beavah, is that you?" she called.

"I've brought company for dinner," said Beaver with a twinkling eye.

"To think I would live to see this day!" Mrs. Beaver giggled. "At last, at last. So tell me…you are Sons of Adam, and Daughters of Eve?"

"We're some of them," I chuckled. I suppose they didn't know of humans much here. And I suppose they had no Family Bible to read the stories like every normal family.

"That's best left for indoors, deary!" said Mr. Beaver quickly. "In you go."

"Look at my fur! You couldn't 'ave given me a moments warnin'!" hissed Mrs. Beaver.

"I'da given you a week if I thought it woulda 'elped," Mr. Beaver took her paw affectionately and led the way indoors.

We ducked through the low door and entered the house. It was very dry, very warm. "The kettles on," said Mrs. Beaver, "I'll pour the ladies some tea if they like! I daresay, Mr. Beaver, you should go catch us some fish?"

"Thatta will, lass," Mr. Beaver caught my eye. "How'd you like to see 'em fish properly caught?"

"Yes sir," I said, slipping my coat back on. I winked at Lucy and followed him out. He crawled a few feet onto the pale blue ice. I followed him up. When it darkened to a green ice, he held his hand up for us to halt. He then brushed some snow aside, and there lay an opening in the ice where the black water lapped the edges. He shot out a paw, quicker than one could say Jack Robinson, and whisked out a beautiful lake trout.

"We don't catch fish that quickly in the Professor's pond," I laughed, scooping the flopping fish into my hands and plopping it into the bucket Mr. Beaver had brought.

The process was repeated again and again until we had a bucketful of fish. We went back indoors and found that a light meal of biscuits, with jam, and a few pasta-like rolls with herbs inside. Then when it was all eaten, the fish had finished frying, and we ate and talked like a group of old friends meeting at a library. Mr. and Mrs. Beaver were most entertaining, telling us all about their quiet life on the dam, and the customs and old Days of the magical land…which had a very elegant name, called Narnia. The name Narnia sounded like red scrolls…or eagles…or a trumpet sounding over banners. Majestic, in its own way. But solemn, like an old farmhouse and a forest of scurrying creatures. It was a name that had never been heard before, and the thought of it was very exciting.

But finally, the serene dinner had to be broken. Lucy finally asked the question that had been plaguing her for house.

"Please," she said softly, "Isn't there anything we can do to help Mr. Tumnus?"

"He's been taken to the Witch," Mr. Beaver avoided a direct answer. "There are none that enter that may ever exit alive."

"But there is hope, dear!" Mrs. Beaver tried to reassure Lucy kindly.

"Of course!" said Mr. Beaver. "There be more than jest 'ope! Aslan is on the move."

Aslan.

The word etched a single moment of time that was always remembered and remained frozen on the timeline. The word seemed to float into the air, then burst like a soap bubble and sprinkle each and every one of us with some sort of new thought.

Aslan…the sound stirred a strange feeling inside. I'd barely felt it before. It almost felt like bravery. I'd never felt bravery before. I'd try to be brave, look brave, feel brave…but had I ever truly accomplished it? No. I was always scared.

The word Aslan was like a glimpse into being brave. It unrolled like a blanket, displaying adventures that I could never guess.

"Who's Aslan?" asked Edmund, bursting the window of that moment. The glass shattered as the Beaver laughed uproariously.

"Who's Aslan?" he repeated, chuckling. "Cheeky little blighter." He laughed again, then slowed to a stop. "Wait—you be tellin' me you don't know who he is?"

"I don't," Edmund said truthfully.

"He's the King of this world!" said Mr. Beaver. "Lord of the Wood! Son of the Emperor across the Sea!"

"We haven't been here very long," I tried to stand up for my embarrassed brother.

"He's been gone for ages," said Mrs. Beaver.

"But he is here…now!" cried Mr. Beaver. "An he's waitin' fer you at the Stone Table!"

"Waiting for us?" questioned Lucy.

"You're bloomin' jokin'!" Beaver was exasperated with us. "You don't know the prophecy?"

"No," I said, sighing. Life was beginning to grow very complex.

"When Adams flesh and Adams bone," recited Mr. Beaver excitedly, "Sits at Cair Paravel in throne, the evil time will be over and done."

There was a moment of silence.

"Four children will come and defeat the White Witch, then rule Narnia in peacetime again," explained Mrs. Beaver.

"And you think WE'RE the ones?" I exclaimed. How could they have been so mistaken?

"Well, you better be," Beaver stared at us in surprise. "Aslan has already set up yer army!"

"Mum sent us away from war," Susan kept a clear head and stood. "She wouldn't want us to get involved. We must go. I'm sorry."

"No," protested Beaver.

"You don't understand," I said, "We're not heroes."

"You can't just leave!" cried Beaver.

"He's right," said Lucy softly. "We have to help Mr. Tumnus. I owe it to him!"

"It's out of our hands, Lucy," I said, the look on her face tearing my heart. "There's nothing we can do!"

Lucy looked down at her folded hands.

"We've got to go," I repeated. "Ed?"

Ed was gone.

"Ed?" I cried, glancing around. The door stood ajar, blowing in little tufts of snow.

"Has he ever been here before?" asked Beaver. "Alone?"

"Yes," said Lucy hesitantly.

"He's betrayed us to the White Witch!" cried Beaver, panicked. "As soon as I saw him, I knew he had eaten her food. He's under her spell. He'll get you all killed--"

"I'm going to kill him," I said, choking over my words.

We had to get him back.

We had to get him back now!

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